Anger Management
by NeoRyu777
Summary: Harry was a very angry, angsty teenager in OotP. What if he had channeled it into the trial at the Ministry? Rated M for language.
1. Turning the Trial

Hey, NeoRyu777 here!

I have not abandoned my Bleach fic, but sadly I have had to completely drop my World series... It's a shame, but I just couldn't keep going on it. There was no more growth to it, and I was fighting for every paragraph in the last chapter or two.

Anyway, this idea has been bouncing around in my head for years... Ran it by a friend of mine who insisted I publish it, at least as a one-shot, but I AM amenable to continuing it.

This takes place in OotP, diverging near the start of the trial.

Chapter 1: Turning the Trial

In the Ministry of Magic, a rather famous teenage wizard was being subjected to a trial in which the entire government as represented. Under normal circumstances, any boy would be shaking in his robes. However, the circumstances were far from normal. Firstly, Harry Potter was rather angry; he'd had a trying summer, and now he was being put on trial for defending his and his cousin's souls from dementors.

"Witness for the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric...Brian...Dumbledore."

Second, Harry had Dumbledore on his side. He couldn't help a smirk when he saw Minister Fudge's face pale somewhat. "You, you got our message that the time and place of the hearing had been changed, did you?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I must have missed it. But by a happy mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early." He paused to let that sink in.

Third, the Minister had attempted to get Harry to miss his trial by changing the time, so they could find him guilty in absentia. This was not helping Harry's mood.

"The charges?" Dumbledore asked authoritatively.

Fudge cleared his throat. "The charges against the accused are as follows; That he did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on the second of August at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offence under Paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, I875, and also under Section I3 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy. Do you deny producing said Patronus?"

Wanting to simply get this over with, Harry decided to play along. Besides, Fudge couldn't really do anything. The Restriction for Underage Sorcery allowed for the defense of lives. "No, but –"

"And you were aware that you were forbidden to use magic outside school while under the age of seventeen?" Fudge interrupted.

Harry's eyes narrowed as he felt a flare of anger. "Yes, but –"

And once again the Minister interrupted. "Witches and wizards of the Wizengamot…"

_Oh hell no. _"We're not done yet, _Minister_." Harry's voice was cold and low, but everyone in the courtroom heard him. "I believe there are mitigating circumstances if you would be so kind as to LET ME FUCKING SPEAK!"

A crackle of magic punctuated his demand quite nicely, making the Minister jump, startled. He was not the only one either; several of the Wizengamot had jumped back and toppled their chairs. Before they could berate him for it, however, Harry returned to his normal volume. "Unless you'd like to prove that this is just a mockery of a trial, Fudge."

"I will NOT be spoken to in such a manner!" Fudge yelled back.

Emerald eyes flashed. "I will speak to you in however a manner I want, Cornelius Fudge! You dare demand respect from me after what you've done? You threw my first friend into Azkaban, just to be seen doing something! You refuse to take the word of myself, and of Professor Dumbledore, that Voldemort is back! Who do you think gave me this scar on my arm? Who do you think killed Cedric Diggory?"

The silence was palpable, until the woman in the pink cardigan spoke up. "Cedric Diggory… was a tragic accident."

"Can we get back on topic?" Amelia Bones asked wearily. "Mr. Potter, you said there were mitigating facts?"

Harry took a deep breath to try to calm down. It only worked partway. "My defense is simple. There were dementors. I cast the Patronus to save both mine, and Dudley's lives. That falls under the exceptions clause for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry."

"Dementors? In Little Whinging?" Amelia asked incredulously.

Fudge appeared, of all things, triumphant. "That's quite clever. Muggles can't see Dementors, can they boy? Highly convenient."

Magic tingled just under his skin, prickling and almost asking to be used. "Don't believe me? My cousin's probably still recovering from nearly having his soul sucked out back at Privet Drive," Harry replied scathingly. "Oh, wait, I'm sorry, I almost thought for a moment I was speaking to an impartial judge. My mistake."

"You will not speak to the Minister of Magic like that!" the woman in the cardigan bellowed.

Harry felt his hair beginning to stand on end in his rage. "Like what?" he hissed. "Like a man who seems bound and determined to get me expelled from Hogwarts?"

"He's the Minister and deserves respect!"

"I'll give him respect when he damn well earns it!" the Boy-Who-Lived spat. "Now then, if you're done trying to defend your over-inflated egos, I'd like to know where you get off on holding a full trial for a simple case of underage wizardry! Because if that doesn't strike all of you as a blatant, childish attempt to both intimidate me and set a precedent, then I must be the only sane one here."

"Now see here!" Fudge tried to interrupt.

"No, YOU SEE HERE!" Harry roared, standing as his anger reached his limits. "I have HAD it with you and your entire fucking Ministry! Two years ago I was the one blamed for a levitation charm that an unknown house-elf had done within my relatives' household, and warned I'd be expelled if it happened again! Last year Sirius Black was temporarily apprehended, and instead of listening to us when we claimed to have evidence that he was innocent, you called us all Confunded and attempted to administer the Dementor's Kiss on a man who had not even had a trial! And do you honestly think I don't know that the Daily Prophet is in your control? Ever since Dumbledore and I insisted that Voldemort is back, you started a slanderous, hateful, smear campaign! Now you want to hold me responsible for using magic in self-defense? Well fuck you, and the rest of the Ministry!"

Harry sat back down in his chair as he glared at the crux of Britain's wizarding government. "Don't expect me to save you again when I'm proven right and Voldemort comes for you."

Unknown to Harry, Dumbledore had paled almost unnoticeably as well at that declaration. He was well aware of Harry's discontent with the government, and his relatives for that matter, but to be so angry as to make a statement like that… Even if he didn't mean it as such, Harry had just thrown a very large rock in the lake of politics.

Making a mental note to talk to the boy later, Dumbledore attempted to arrest the damage before it could spread too far by taking a slightly more aggressive approach than he'd originally planned. "It's easy to see that there have been injustices made to Mr. Potter. It's also easy to tell that certain practices have fallen out of favor. It was once the case that the Patronus Charm was under the watch list, just in case of such an event, and to administer aid to those still suffering the effect of a Dementor or Lethifold, and I do believe that law was never rescinded due to well-documented cases of the victims being saved in the nick of time. Mr. Potter, was there any such aid provided by an official of the Ministry?"

Harry was glad that the Headmaster was speaking to him again, if only to prove his innocence. "No, Professor."

"I see. Mr. Weasley, please note that the Ministry has faulted in following its own law, and that it is only due to Mr. Potter's prowess at the Patronus Charm that he and his cousin escaped safely."

"There is still no evidence a Dementor was even there!" Umbridge protested.

"On the contrary," Dumbledore argued, "even if you discard Mr. Potter as a witness, the very fact that the Ministry failed to uphold its duty implies that they were the ones who sent the Dementors."

The silence that struck the room could have smothered a Lethifold.

"Oh you have GOT to be kidding!" Harry burst out incredulously after a few seconds. "So now you're trying to kill me, and then when you fail I get arrested anyway for protecting myself? Just fucking perfect. Should I just draw my wand now and duel Fudge in a contest of honor or something so I can just get you off my back?"

"I assure you, Mr. Potter, there's no need for that," Amelia hastily reassured.

Unfortunately, her statement put her in direct line of Harry's ire. "And why is that, Madame Bones? Because to me, it seems like I can't trust the lot of you to keep one piss-poor Minister in line. If dueling him ensures that I don't have to deal with the Ministry trying to kill me, then let's get on with it already! It's par for the course as far as I'm concerned. Feels like every year I'm fighting to save my skin, why not get this year's over with early? Might help me study for my OWLs at least."

There as a pause as that sunk in. "What I mean, Mr. Potter," the Law Enforcement officer said regally, looking down her monocle at him, "is that the matter will be investigated to the best of our ability."

Harry snorted. "Just like the Chamber of Secrets was investigated three years ago? Oh wait, you threw an innocent man in jail until I proved it wasn't him, silly me. How about the Sirius Black investigation? Whoops, he broke into the Gryffindor Common Room, escaped from Ministry custody without a trace, and that was after Fudge attempted to set a Dementor on him. Or what about the Goblet of Fire? Why was my name spat out as a fourth contender?" He rolled his eyes. "Don't insult me. To the best of your ability means that you'll twiddle your thumbs and attempt to sweep everything under the rug and hope something bigger and more publicized comes out to make the Ministry look even better."

Fudge was turning an ugly shade of puce as the Boy-Who-Lived trashed his name left, right and center. Worse, there was nothing he could do about it. Everything he had said so far was true, and it was apparent he had the evidence to prove it. The best he could do was damage control now. "In any case, the case has been made. Those in favor of clearing the witness of all charges?"

The vote was nigh-unanimous. Only a few people had their hands lowered , one of them being Umbridge, Harry noted.

Fudge called for those who voted guilty, but it was already apparent he'd lost. "Very well. Cleared of all charges."

"Excellent!" Dumbledore remarked, pleased. "Come along then, Mr. Potter."

Harry did so with a small smirk. He felt so much lighter, having vented everything he felt towards the Ministry directly at them. He wondered what they would do next. Despite the result, he had the feeling that Fudge would be trying something else soon…

* * *

Yes, Harry is a very angry, angry teenager. It's nice to actually have him continue his anger in a productive manner. I really do love writing sarcastic Harry.

Anyway, let me know if you want me to continue it!

NeoRyu777


	2. Early Information

Due to popular demand, I will continue this fic. Took me a while to come up with a decent premise for it though... I don't want Harry being COMPLETELY OOC all the time. He needs to grow as a person, and the angry outbursts are only part of it.

Chapter 2: Early Information

Harry sighed. His anger had subsided quite a bit since the trial as he took the elevator back to the main lobby. He shook his head as he walked to the Floo. _I've been getting so angry lately… At least it served a good purpose this time. _He smiled slightly as he waited his turn. Arthur Weasley had just gone, and Dumbledore was now going through as well. _And man, it felt good to just let loose. But Fudge is surely going to try to fight back. _

Taking some Floo powder in hand, he threw it into the fire and stepped into the now-green flames. "Grimmauld Place!"

Bracing for impact, Harry was surprising to find his tumble from the fireplace halted by a gentle but firm grip on his arm. Looking up as he once again found his grip on the ground, he met the eyes of Dumbledore, who looked somewhat worried, the usual twinkling somewhat diminished. "Thanks, Professor."

"It is no problem, Harry," the wizened old man responded quietly.

"So?" a voice demanded, and Harry was suddenly made aware of just how crowded the room was. The speaker belonged to a twin, either Fred or George Weasley. "How'd it go?"

Harry smiled. "They found me innocent of all charges."

"He got off!" both twins yelled in stereo, beginning a little jig that was quite amusing to see. To Harry's surprise, Ginny got in on the act as well, though Ron merely rolled his eyes.

"Well, of course we knew you'd get off, Harry," Hermione told him, though her eyes betrayed her with the relief shining clearly. "They couldn't do anything, you were defending yourself!"

"Knew you'd be fine, mate," Ron agreed with a smile. "Dumbledore came through for you, right?"

"Yeah. Somehow managed to turn everything back around on the Ministry, even!" Harry turned his eyes upwards, trying to recall exactly how. "Something about how the Patronus Charm is on some watch list, and since the Ministry didn't send out someone to investigate it, it implied that the Ministry already knew the dementor was there and didn't care, and therefore were trying to murder me."

"Bloody hell!" Ron burst out. "That's certainly one way to stick it to Fudge. After that I'm surprised they haven't ousted him already!"

"After Mr. Potter's performance they very well might, but Fudge is still Minister for now," Dumbledore interjected. "Now, Harry, I need a word in private…"

Harry wondered why, but followed the Headmaster to an empty room. "Is something wrong, Professor?"

"Honestly, yes," Dumbledore confessed. "You must have noticed how I was not looking you in the eye before…"

Harry blinked. That had indeed been on his mind in recent times, and it had bothered him somewhat. Perhaps now he would finally get some answers. "Yeah, I saw," he said simply. "I was wondering why that was…"

Dumbledore sighed. "You see, Harry, it comes down to Voldemort again. Your visions earlier this summer, in addition to your scar's reactions to Voldemort's presence and state of mind, indicate that you have a psychic link between you."

"I figured as much. Unless I suddenly developed extraordinary skills in Divination, that was the only thing I could think of as well," Harry agreed.

"What I was, and am, concerned about is whether the link is bidirectional."

Harry's eyes furrowed as he worked out what Dumbledore meant. "So, what, you think that I'm a security risk? You think that he can somehow see where I am when I'm very angry or very happy or something?" That only raised more questions than it did answers; _He's got a very annoying tendency to do that,_ Harry grouched mentally.

"You're quite close," Dumbledore told him. "There is a particularly tricky form of magic that deals with the minds. I believe you are familiar with some mind magic, thanks to a certain ex-professor who made a living off it."

"The Memory Charm, I remember," Harry replied after a moment. "So, wait, you think he can just erase my memories or give me new ones or something from a distance? Do you think I can do the same to him?"

Dumbledore looked a little taken aback at the idea, before he smiled, his eyes twinkling a little brighter. "I must remember not to underestimate youth," he murmured. "Children always have such extraordinary ideas… No, Harry, though that is not a bad idea, I do not believe that is a viable method for defeating Voldemort. What I refer to is called Legilimency. It is the art of being able to enter another's mind and view memories and occasionally thoughts. Masters of the art no longer need the incantation, and merely need to look someone in the eyes."

The ideas clicked. "You thought that maybe he could look through my eyes and into your head!" Harry exclaimed. "You thought he'd use me as a go-between to read your mind!"

Dumbledore beamed. "Exactly, though Legilimency is not quite reading someone's mind. You see, a mind has many layers, it cannot simply be opened and closed like a book. The most Legilimency can do is view the surface, namely memories, emotions and the like."

"So why are you looking me in the eyes now?" Harry demanded. "What changed?"

"You have. Harry, you were not an angry person last year, before Voldemort regained a body. You were frustrated at times, and had occasional bursts of anger, but it was never a predominant emotion. Now, twice in a month you have been so angry, so full of rage that you could not help but take it out on the people who had enraged you so. The first time was your friends for heeding my request to not send any sensitive information to you, and the second time was in front of the whole British wizarding government. Now that you are calmer, surely you can see just how many ways your performance could have gone wrong? It was only due to the troubling accusations you gave, and past history between Fudge and the Wizengamot, that you were allowed to continue instead of being fined for contempt, and perhaps put in Azkaban anyway," the Headmaster explained.

Harry nodded. "I know, but I was just so, so angry!"

"And rightfully so. Your speech during the trial has highlighted all the ways that our government has done wrong to you, and anyone would be very frustrated. But we are digressing from the point. The point is, I fear that ever since Voldemort regained form, the link is influencing you somewhat, making you angrier than usual. You must learn control, Harry, or you may be lost and we would have two Voldemorts, instead of one."

The image did its job and Harry was now worried himself. "How?"

Dumbledore peered down his spectacles at his student. "There is a counter to Legilimency, and I think it is likely that it will keep Voldemort from unduly pushing his emotions to you, or using you as a conduit to mentally attack me. This counter is known as Occlumency, and it involves clearing your mind and controlling your emotions. Occlumency is the art of defending one's mind against all forms of magical influence."

"So how do I learn? Are you going to teach me?" Harry asked, trying to hide the eagerness from his voice.

Dumbledore shook his head. "I cannot. For me to teach you would require that I let down my own Occlumency to attack you with Legilimency, and that would be the prime opportunity for Voldemort to strike and take crucial memories. Luckily, we have another at Hogwarts capable of teaching it."

"Who?" Harry asked confusedly. "Professor McGonagal? Professor Flitwick?"

"Professor Snape."

In a split second, Harry's enthusiasm died. "Naturally. In order for me to learn something I absolutely need, I need to learn from a man who hates me for resembling my father. Great. Story of my life, that. And here I thought that since you were being so forthcoming before the year's ended, my luck might be turning up." Harry blinked as what Dumbledore had said previously settled in. "Wait, did you say that teaching Occlumency requires Snape to attack me with Legilimency?"

"Yes."

"Are you insane?" Harry asked genuinely. "I mean, really? You know Snape. You know he holds a grudge against my father, despite the fact that he's dead. You know that Snape has never bothered to think of me of anything except a remnant of my father because of my looks, and he hates me. I've known that since my first year at Hogwarts! Hell, I've known that since my first class with him! 'Ah, Mr. Potter. Our new celebrity,'" Harry mocked, doing a pretty decent impersonation of Snape's voice. "'Potter! Why didn't you keep Longbottom from putting in the ingredient while the cauldron was on a boil, despite the fact that you were obviously trying to work on your own potion? Five points from Gryffindor!' 'Potter! A zero for the day I see, despite how I just saw Draco Malfoy toss in a random ingredient to your potion!' 'Potter! I know you stole the gillyweed that you used for the second task, and I will prove it by threatening you with the Ministry-controlled potion Veritaserum!' 'We are testing poison antidotes today, and our test subject is you, Potter!' 'Oh Minister, I apprehended the innocent Sirius Black, please go sick a dementor on him and give me a shiny reward for condemning the man I hate to a soulless existence for however long it takes him to die!'" Harry's gaze had turned into a glare by the end of this. "I think the only reason he saved me from Quirrel's curse in that Quidditch game in my first year is so he could have seven years of tormenting me as an unhealthy form of petty revenge against my father. Why the hell should I trust him with my mind?"

Dumbledore looked rather taken aback for a moment before shaking his head. "Harry, you must remain calm," he said soothingly.

"Why?" Harry hissed. "You think Voldemort's here in my head right now? Let's find out then, shall we? Oi! Voldemort! You in there?" He knocked on his head a couple of times. "Must piss you off to no end you can't kill a single teenager! Five times I have faced you, five times I have survived! Hell, you couldn't even kill me in front of all your Death Eaters!" He paused for a moment. "Nope, no scar pain. Means Voldemort ain't here. This is all me."

"Just because your scar is not reacting does not mean that his emotions are not affecting yours," Dumbledore tried to reason. "You are not usually this angry towards Professor Snape, are you?"

"Did you listen to a word I just said about him? What reason do I have to have anything but hatred and rage towards that man? Headmaster, you've watched me grow for the last four years! Do I hate the students who can't make up their minds about whether I'm a Dark Lord or a hero? No! Do I hate Ron after his worst betrayals? No! Do I hate you for refusing to tell me why Voldemort is still out to kill me? No! Was I irritated at all of you? Yes, but I don't hate you for it. Hatred is earned. And Snape has more than earned it." Harry looked at his Headmaster in frustration before he took a couple of calming breaths. "What you said about needing to know Occlumency makes sense. Even if your theory is false, and Voldemort is not influencing my emotions, it would still be a very useful skill I'm sure. If only to keep Snape out of my head. But I refuse to let Snape use this as yet another excuse to punish me for the circumstances of my birth!"

"Harry, you recognize that Occlumency is necessary, and you know I cannot teach you. What other options do you have?" Dumbledore pointed out.

Harry snorted. "I'm the Boy-Who-Lived. While I hate my fame, it must have some use. I'm sure it'll open a couple of doors, I just need to send a few letters."

Dumbledore's posture slumped. "Very well. I will not force you to learn from Professor Snape, but I do hope that you and he will learn to work together in peace."

"If he can't work past the fact that I look like the father I never knew growing up, how is that my problem?" Harry asked with slightly narrowed eyes. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some letters to write, and some friends to reassure that I'm not in mortal danger. Again."

* * *

Well, there's Chapter 2. Dumbledore's not an evil bastard in my fic - though I do like to write that occasionally - but he is quite blind to how things truly are between them.

One of the things I never truly understood is why Harry was ever willing to take Snape's class again after he tried to get Sirius the Dementor's Kiss despite knowing of his innocence. That would be an unforgiveable sin for me, and would put Snape permanently on my enemy list. Above Draco Malfoy, below Voldemort, somewhere in there.

Anyway, read and review!


	3. Emotion

Bit of a longer chapter this time, I think. Sorry it took so long, but Harry doesn't get another enormous rant/explosion of anger this chapter.

Chapter 3: Emotion

Severus Snape would never admit it, but for once in his life he was glad of Potter's inexplicable influence over the Headmaster. It was a relief not to have to teach that spoiled brat anything more than what was required as a Professor of Hogwarts; the insufferable boy was hard enough to tolerate in Potions class, and Snape thought he would have an aneurysm if he had to push himself into Potter's mind deep enough to view memories. Snape would have to undoubtedly watch him be pampered and treated as the hero that the whole world thought he was.

To commemorate the strange occasion where he was actually thankful of the boy's actions – even if Snape felt that Potter's methods were just another proof that he expected special treatment – the Potions Master poured himself a glass of Ogden's Firewhiskey within the comfort of his quarters at Hogwarts.

If only he knew just what awaited the upcoming year, he'd be treating himself to more than just a glass.

* * *

After Harry had explained the situation to Ron and Hermione, they had immediately gone to work. Hermione had requested and received permission to peruse the Black library as long as Sirius or Remus were there to help remove the curses on the books, while Ron had immediately sent an owl to his big brother Bill, whose curse-breaking knowledge might be able to help Harry reduce the risk with his curse scar.

Harry himself had consulted Mr. Weasley and was returning to the Ministry of Magic a few days later to interview with a Ministry professional who taught Occlumency. According to Mr. Weasley, Julius Thornetrope was widely known amongst the pureblood community and was frequently employed to teach the heirs of merchant families, and those higher up in the Ministry. However, Thornetrope's expenses were left up to him, and he preferred to interview to determine pricing.

Meeting Mr. Thornetrope for the first time, Harry observed that he was an old, slightly overweight wizard, with piercing blue eyes and thinning grey hair. He wore expensive-looking shimmery robes and his very presence seemed to demand respect. His office was decorated with a few moving pictures and ornaments, but no portraits. The desk he sat behind was elegant even to Harry's unpracticed eye, and clean of all but a few pieces of paperwork.

"Mr. Harry Potter," Thornetrope greeted coolly. Even his voice seemed to permeate seriousness, Harry noted. "Before we begin, my job requires me to take an oath of silence. I, Julius Thornetrope, swear on my magic that I will not reveal or otherwise use the knowledge that I gain in today's session with Harry James Potter unless given direct, explicit permission."

Well, that eased Harry's mind considerably. He wasn't sure how he would hide Sirius's status from the Legilimens, but now even if he was discovered, Thornetrope couldn't do anything.

"So, Mr. Potter, why are you here?"

"I need to learn Occlumency."

"Need, or want?" Thornetrope looked directly at Harry's eyes, catching them with his hard gaze.

"Need," Harry confirmed, thinking grimly of the consequences if he didn't. It was only after he'd spoken that he realized that Thornetrope had almost definitely used Legilimency.

The Occlumency teacher leaned back in his chair pensively. "I see. Your scar is a link to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and you need to feel secure in your own mind and know that you're not inadvertently hurting your friends. Interesting."

Harry almost gaped; he'd gotten all that information in a mere second! _This is the power of Legilimency? _

"To those sufficiently skilled. I am convinced that you need to learn Occlumency. Now, tell me of yourself, especially your state of mind, and be as honest as you can; I will be using Legilimency to monitor your truthfulness."

Harry wasn't certain what to say, but after a few seconds decided to just start off as though he were introducing himself. "I'm the Boy-Who-Lived but I don't like my fame," came to mind first. _Easy enough. _"I want to protect my friends. I've been getting angry a lot lately, but I'm not sure how much of it is just me and how much is Voldemort after what Dumbledore told me…" He paused, glancing at his would-be mentor and seeing if this was what he was looking for.

Thornetrope merely nodded, expression not changing.

Taking that as a sign to continue, Harry thought for a minute, trying to be completely honest with himself; he needed to impress this man so Thornetrope would teach him. Even as he thought that, Harry realized the man had probably seen that and flushed in embarrassment for a moment before forcefully halting that train of thought and getting back to work. He missed them man's slight smirk.

Harry quickly came across the topic of Voldemort; it'd been occupying his thoughts a lot ever since the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament. "I feel guilty for Cedric Diggory's death," Harry admitted a few seconds later. "I'm enormously frustrated at the Ministry for not believing me or Dumbledore about Voldemort being back. I'm worried about how bad this upcoming year's going to be, since there's always something going on at Hogwarts that seems out to get me. I'm scared that when the truth comes out, everyone's going to want me to save them again when Voldemort's got half a century more experience than I do. I sometimes wonder what a normal life's like because I know that I'm never going to get one."

"Do you have any concerns at this time that are unrelated to You-Know-Who's return?" Apparently Thornetrope had gotten the picture; a lot of Harry's focus was on that topic entirely.

Harry had to think about that one. _Whether the student body is going to blame me for Cedric's death_ was the first thing that came to mind, but that was related to Voldemort. The newest Defense teacher for Hogwarts was another, but that very quickly led to learning what he needed to know to defend himself against Voldemort. Harry briefly wondered what Fudge was going to do in retaliation for Harry's humiliating him in the courtroom, but then categorized that as part of Voldemort's return and Fudge's stupidity in general. Not even Sirius's freedom could count on its own, as Pettigrew was a Death Eater and therefore under the Voldemort category. Harry had been interested in a relationship with Cho Chang the previous year, but that was before Cedric, her boyfriend, had died right next to him. Harry supposed that he was concerned about Cho's state of mind, but again that was related to Voldemort. Harry wondered what the children of Death Eaters were going to do this year, but once again that thought fell under the Voldemort category. Everything seemed to tie back to him.

As Harry thought about it, he came to a depressing conclusion. A lot of his life was purely focused on survival. He didn't have the same concerns as Ron would because he didn't have any older brothers to compete against and Harry didn't care about school popularity. He didn't have the same concerns as Hermione because she thought long-term and wanted to know as much as she possibly could, while Harry just wanted to live long enough to finish school. _After fighting_ _Quirrelmort, Tom Riddle's Diary, a Basilisk, god knows how many dementors, a Hungarian Horntail, the monsters in that maze, Voldemort himself, more dementors, and lately the Ministry of Magic, that's looking increasingly unlikely._

"You're right, that is rather depressing," Thorntrope agreed seemingly out of the blue.

Harry was startled out of his morbid thoughts at the sound of the man's voice and blinked a few times. He realized that the Legilimens had been monitoring his thoughts the entire time and sighed. To verbally answer Thorntrope's previous question, he finally said, "I can't think of anything else I'm particularly concerned about."

"How sad."

"Welcome to my life."

"Well, I can answer at least one of your questions right now. Based only on that last thought I fished from that brain of yours, if the majority of the anger you've been feeling lately doesn't originate from you, then you're either brain-damaged, clinically depressed, or the most accepting and patient wizard I've ever known short of Albus Dumbledore himself. Or any combination of the three," Thorntrope told Harry calmly.

Harry wasn't sure what to make of that. On the one hand, he didn't like feeling so angry so frequently, so he had half-hoped it was mostly Voldemort's emotion. But that would mean troubling things regarding his psyche if Thornetrope was to be believed. On the other hand, Harry had hoped that Voldemort's influence was minimal so his friends would be protected, but that meant that the anger truly was all his own. _Would that make me an unpleasant person?_

"No, it would mean that you have a reasonable temper and appropriate levels of anger at the world in general."

Harry was beginning to get annoyed at the constant mind-reading, but held his tongue and clamped down on the thought as it was beginning to form.

Thornetrope looked mildly pleased by that, actually. "Well done, Mr. Potter. Most don't manage to gain that level of control over their thoughts for quite some time. Emotions take longer, of course, as they're far more instinctual than a thought is."

"Had to learn how to keep from thinking when I'm in Snape's class," Harry explained in a bitter tone. "After he tried to get my godfather Kissed by dementors, I had to learn how to keep from thinking of how much I wanted to destroy him. Otherwise…"

"… it'd just feed your own anger and desire for vengeance and you'd work yourself up to murder," Thornetrope finished with a nod. "Good, you have at least the beginnings of emotional control, and the constant threat of your imminent demise should provide more than enough motivation." He paused to consider for a moment. "Very well, I have enough information. I shall teach you Occlumency. We shall meet for two hours per day, from 2:00 PM to 4:00 PM. At the beginning of each session, I shall take a magical oath swearing not to divulge or unduly use what I glean from your mind unless given permission from you the client. I require payment of 40 Galleons per week paid up front. When our lessons continue into the school year, and they will, we will renegotiate the times. Is this an acceptable arrangement?"

Harry nodded firmly.

"Good. I will see you tomorrow at 2:00."

* * *

"So, how'd it go?" Ron asked as soon as Harry picked himself up from his latest tumble out of the Floo.

"Pretty well I think," Harry told him, dusting off his robes. "He agreed to teach me, at least."

Hermione looked up from the book she was reading. Harry noticed that the title – _Occluding the Mind_ – and realized that she was trying to learn Occlumency as well, and perhaps help him out like she always had. That made him feel better about the whole thing, actually, but he had expected no less from the young woman; Hermione was always interested in learning magic, no matter how obscure. "What was he like?" she queried curiously.

Harry frowned as he thought about it. "He didn't really give much away. He was very serious the entire time. He's extremely good at Legilimency though, to the point of being a little creepy."

"How so?" Ron asked, slightly confused.

"He was able to know what I was thinking as I was thinking it," the Boy-Who-Lived explained. "You know how some of the teachers can just look at you and you feel as though they can see right through you? Thornetrope was the same way, except worse. I felt like my every secret was out in the open."

"Does he know about Sirius?" Hermione immediately demanded, shocked.

"I dunno, I did my best not to think about him, but even if he does he swore an oath at the beginning of the interview not to do anything with any knowledge he got from me today," Harry told her quickly, making her relax considerably. "Got any tips from that book?"

Hermione shook her head negatively. "Not yet. I only found it an hour ago, and it's taken me that long to get through the introduction and warnings section. Most of it you already know, like how it's the counter to Legilimency, and that it's an incredibly advanced form of self-control. But one piece that's particularly interesting is that Occlumency is a way to counter the effects of Veritaserum!"

That caught Harry's attention immediately. After the number of times Snape had threatened him with the Ministry-controlled truth potion, and having witnessed it in action against Barty Crouch Jr. just months ago, Harry was _very _interested in learning how to counter Veritaserum. A glance at Ron told Harry that his best mate looked like he'd been slapped in the face with a wet trout.

"What else is it good for?" Harry queried excitedly.

"Supposedly, it's really useful for learning things easier." Hermione frowned. "It said something about it being a side-effect of a well-organized mind. Why doesn't Hogwarts teach this then?"

"Because, Miss Granger, not everyone can learn Occlumency," a very familiar voice answered quietly. Dumbledore stepped into the room with a small smile at his favorite trio of students. "Occlumency is simply not possible to some, as even the most basic form of it requires incredible control over not only one's actions and impulses, but one's very mind. It is a very rare and difficult skill to acquire, let alone master. Now, do you believe that the average, say, third-year student at Hogwarts has enough self-control to even begin to learn how to master his thoughts?"

After only a moment of thought, Hermione shook her head, no doubt remembering some of Harry's own exploits that year. "No… it's hard enough for most students to even keep their mouths shut when something frustrates them at that age."

"Fourth, perhaps?"

Hermione thought back to the previous year. "Probably not."

"Then how about those in their fifth year?"

The bushy-haired young woman sighed. "We'll be fifteen this year. Most people are going to be focused on dating and their OWLs this year."

Dumbledore nodded. "You see, Miss Granger, Occlumency is not taught at Hogwarts simply because no one would be able to learn it for the majority of the time they spend there. Even if that were not true, we as teachers cannot afford to have students able to hide their every emotion and reaction from them. Many spells require specific emotions to work properly. The Patronus Charm and the Cheering Charm have a strong basis in happiness if you recall. Professors must be able to monitor the emotions of their class in order to facilitate learning experiences. For instance, Professor Snape is often able to tell who to monitor in class judging by the student's body language and expression; confidence versus panic. Professor McGonagall uses a similar technique to ensure that there are no transfiguration accidents. If the students were versed in Occlumency, there could be a slew of accidents that could have been avoided."

Harry frowned. _So I'm once again a special case. Great. _"If that's all true, why are you so sure that I can learn it? Are there no other options?"

"I've shared your unique problem with Professors Snape, McGonagall and Flitwick, looking to their specialties for alternatives," Dumbledore confirmed. "But so far no one has come up with anything solid. Professor Snape is still looking into a potion that will Occlude the mind for you, but that would be a temporary solution at best. No, I'm afraid you'll have to do the best you can to learn Occlumency."

Harry nodded resolutely, while Ron decided to change the subject. "Have you picked out a new teacher for DADA yet?"

Dumbledore shook his head, his customary eye-twinkle fading a little. "No one's applied yet. I fear that Hogwarts's recent history of teachers has left some feeling that there is a curse on the position."

"What will happen if you don't find one?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"The Ministry will no doubt intercede," Dumbledore answered grimly. "Let us hope that does not happen."

* * *

"The most basic form of Occlumency is clearing the mind, keeping any Legilimens from being able to gather any information by making your mind blank and empty," Thornetrope lectured. "However, one cannot simply jump from having no experience with Occlumency to clearing the mind at will. It requires practice, discipline. You may be the Boy-Who-Lived, Mr. Potter, but I do not expect you to be able to block me today. However, I do expect some form of progress."

_No pressure, _Harry thought to himself. _Blank and empty… How do I do that? I don't even feel anything, how am I supposed to know when to keep my mind clear and when I can think again? _

"You will be able to detect the presence of a Legilimens with practice, Mr. Potter. I am a master Legilimens, so it is no wonder that you do not feel me there in your thoughts. Now, the mind is incredibly complex. Emotions and thoughts everywhere, about anything and everything. Taking in your surroundings, forming opinions and conclusions, wondering what's for supper, worrying about something that's bothering you, working on problems in your head, walking to your next destination, talking to someone next to you, keeping track of the time, your brain does so many things at once! This is why Pensieves were created, for people who couldn't keep track of all their related thoughts, or needed to record them because their minds would summarily forget them with everything else they were thinking of. As we grow older, our brains start to multitask more and more things at once. This is why children learn the quickest, as when they are learning, they are mostly focused on it."

Harry was finding this fascinating; he was beginning to understand what Dumbledore had meant when he was explaining what a Pensieve is for to the previous year.

"A skilled Legilimens is able to view only the uppermost level, your conscious thoughts and recollections," Thornetrope continued. "However, even this can prove to be disastrous against someone unskilled in protecting his mind. Imagine a fighter who knows your next move almost before it completely registers with you, or in your current situation, a Dark Lord who has his own personal, unwilling spy."

Harry felt a rush of anger and shame at his situation, but continued to listen to the man. Despite his extremely serious attitude, Thornetrope had his own charisma, and held his attention as easily as any of his teachers at Hogwarts. _And it's obvious he knows his stuff. _

"Thank you for the compliment, but focus on the material to be learned, Mr. Potter."

Harry's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but refocused his attention on what Thornetrope was saying.

"However, Occlumency has a great many more abilities than simply shielding your mind. Imagine, if you will, if you could simply stop thinking of everything else, and pay complete and utter attention to a solitary object. Can you see how much more quickly you could memorize it? Or instead, think of your battles. Think of the most powerful, difficult-to-learn spell you know." He paused, peering into Harry's Killing Curse green eyes. Thornetrope nodded, satisfied. "The Patronus Charm, a perfect example for our discussion. You understand how difficult it is to think of a sufficiently happy memory while under the effects of those wretched hell-spawn?"

Harry nodded; he knew full well how difficult it was. After saving Sirius from Merlin-knows-how-many of them at the end of his third year, oh he was very much aware of how difficult it was to gather the memory and focus enough power to summon Prongs.

Thornetrope's eyes widened. "… You would expect me to stop being surprised at what memories I find in your head," he muttered. "A Patronus powerful enough to not only stop but drive away that many dementors, at only the tender age of thirteen? No wonder you became a Triwizard Champion…"

_I had help, _was the first thought that popped into Harry's head defensively, along with his frustration that no one had believed him when he had stated quite clearly he hadn't put his name in that blasted Goblet of Fire! Realizing where his thoughts were taking him and not wanting to work himself up to a rage again, Harry quickly seized upon the original topic.

But before he could voice it, Thornetrope nodded. "Yes, yes, of course, back to Occlumency. In any case, the Patronus Charm is a perfect example of the need of incredible focus, and a strong emotion of joy. Occlumency could not only help you find an appropriate memory more quickly, but it allows you to quite literally focus your entire mind on that Patronus, while helping to keep out the foreign mental influence of dementors. I imagine that, at that time, you instinctively cleared your mind of everything but what you needed to do, and that is what allowed you to cast such a powerful Patronus."

Harry's eyes had widened almost comically. Hermione had said that Occlumency made learning easier, but he hadn't imagined it could be so powerful!

"Occlumency is indeed very powerful, and very useful. But it is oh so difficult. You see, Mr. Potter, Occlumency is nothing less than mastering your mind, and that… that is one of the hardest tasks a man can ever undertake. You may master your body through physical trial, you may master yourself through discipline and fighting temptation, but to master your mind you must first silence it!" Thornetrope had stood, his voice rising and gaining passion as he went on, until that final word where he slammed his fist down to the table before him to punctuate it. Harry almost jumped. Thornetrope sighed and sat down in his chair once more. "Muggles sometimes call achieving this goal reaching enlightenment or nirvana, or becoming one with the universe. That, Mr. Potter, is what you have hired me to teach you."

The Boy-Who-Lived felt almost overwhelmed, but he was definitely eager to begin. "How do I get started?"

Thornetrope smiled. "To begin, you need to clear your mind. Before you ask, I cannot tell you how to clear it; everyone has a different method. Some preferred to empty it through exercise, others through casting of magic, and still others chose menial, repetitive tasks to lose themselves into. No two people are the same, Mr. Potter. You must find _your _way to clear your mind. Take your time, but certainly make your best effort at it; I will know if you are not," he warned.

_Sometimes having your teacher literally in your thoughts is a pain, _Harry grumbled to himself before settling down and focusing on the goal. _A clear mind… _At first he simply tried not thinking and staring into space. This seemed to work for a few seconds, but he was unable to hold it as soon as something shiny on the desk caught his eye and he found himself wondering what it was.

Harry shook his head and decided to close his eyes to keep his vision from interfering. He frowned; now that he was actually trying to silence his thoughts, it seemed like they would never stop coming. His fifth attempt was broken by the simple thought of wondering how long it would take to clear the mind.

"Longer than that, I'm afraid," Thornetrope's unexpected voice startled him for a moment, but Harry frowned harder and sat back in his chair, trying to figure out what he was doing wrong.

_Well, he did say he didn't expect me to block him today. _Harry thought back to when his Ministry teacher had theorized that casting his Patronus the time he'd saved his godfather had cleared his mind. He closed his eyes and tried to remember that feeling…

Harry remembered feeling focused. Terribly focused, as though there were nothing in this world but him, the dementors, and the people he was trying to save. Determination and confidence were there too. There was no despair from the dementors, no worry about what would happen if he failed; he knew he wouldn't.

Immersing himself in the memory, Harry nearly forgot what it was he was trying to do. He opened his eyes, feeling his magic rushing through him and waiting to be cast. However, immediately upon seeing where he was, the memories rushed back and Harry lost his grip on the mental state he'd been in. Instead, he quickly became frustrated. He hadn't cleared his mind at all, had he?

"A good start," Thornetrope stated calmly. "As I thought, you minimized your thoughts and emotions down to what was necessary at the time, with nothing else distracting you. As a result, with your whole mind behind those, the emotions and thoughts you did have seemed incredibly large, did they not?"

Now that Harry thought about it, yes, yes they did. _Perhaps I did use a rudimentary form of Occlumency back then… _He felt some hope rise up within him.

"However, it took you far too long to gain that state. It may not have felt very long to you, but you spent more than five minutes putting yourself into the same state as your memory. Also, as you are no doubt aware, those emotions are not appropriate for every circumstance. Furthermore, even with your mind as cleared as it was, you failed to recognize my Legilimency within you, and I had purposely made it as obvious as I could without outright using the spell aloud."

Harry felt some righteous anger flare up as he mutinously thought, _It's my first time doing this, what do you expect? _But he immediately quashed that thought, knowing that Thornetrope had probably seen it, but he had the bad feeling that he didn't want to piss off the Occlumency teacher.

"You have wise instincts," Thornetrope agreed with an amused voice, much to Harry's relief. "We are done for today, but do not get used to leaving early. This session was merely an introduction. Your homework for tonight, and every night until I say otherwise, is to practice clearing your mind. Do not focus on how long it takes you, focus on clearing it and keeping it clear. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir."

* * *

And so the routine began for the rest of August. Harry spent his mornings helping to clean Grimmauld Place alongside the Weasleys and Hermione, had lunch, and then met with Thornetrope for his Occlumency. Evenings consisted of dinner, spending some time with Sirius and his friends, and practicing his Occlumency before bed.

By the end of August, Harry was completely prepared for Hogwarts. His homework was completed, even his Potions paper, and he had become almost completely fed up with being unable to use magic. On a whimsical day, Harry had even written a minor speech he planned on using on anyone stupid enough to believe in the Ministry.

Harry's progress with Occlumency, however, was slow; the Boy-Who-Lived had trouble clearing his mind completely. He could, with great effort, cut it down to the most important things, but he could not completely empty it, it seemed. However, Thornetrope assured him that he was still doing well for a beginner, especially as Harry now could detect a Legilimency invasion, even if he couldn't yet throw him out. Their sessions had changed once Harry demonstrated his fledgling ability to sense mental intrusion; now Thornetrope had his student attempt to keep him from learning something from him.

Harry would write down a phrase, memorize it, and then attempt to keep his teacher from learning what he'd written using Legilimency. On good days, Harry could keep him out for a few minutes and Thornetrope would slowly increase the power behind his mind-reading gaze until he broke Harry's defense. On bad days, he was unable to even keep out Thornetrope for a minute. Every day, he had a terrible headache at the end of their session.

"This Legilimency technique is what is known as the brute-force technique of gaining information," Thornetrope had lectured. "It is nothing more than a clash of skill and willpower. Any halfway decent Occlumens can detect, counter, and throw out a brute force attack by the time I'm through with them. Once you've progressed sufficiently, we will continue to the more subtle varieties."

Harry sighed. It was August 31st, and he still felt that he hadn't progressed enough. But he was eager to return to Hogwarts, if only so he could prepare his magic as well as his mind. However, there was something missing. It was only as he was packing that he realized; Harry didn't have the fifth year books! "Hey Ron, did the booklists come in and I missed them or something?"

"Nuh-uh," Ron grunted, doing some of his own packing. "It's really weird, they were supposed to have come out at the beginning of the month."

"That's what I thought too. Did the owls maybe get intercepted?"

"I don't think so," Ron mused. "Mum talks to Dumbledore all the time. She's no doubt been hounding him for the book list so we can get what we need."

Harry didn't doubt that for a minute. Just then, however, Hermione came rushing upstairs carrying three envelopes. "Harry, Ron! Hogwarts letters just arrived!"

"About time!" Harry exclaimed. "But how do they expect us to get any new books? Today's the last day of summer holidays!"

"Well, we still have the rest of today," Hermione reminded him. "But I see your point, Flourish and Blott's is going to be incredibly busy. If we need new books, our teachers will probably give us a grace period. This really was very strange of them to wait until today to send them out…"

"Yeah, yeah," Ron agreed hurriedly, but unconcernedly. "Let's see what's there, shall we?"

Hermione glanced at the letters to verify which was for whom, and passed them to her friends. As one, they opened them up.

As usual, there were two pieces of parchment in there. The first was the standard reminder about the start of term being on September 1st, but Harry was more concerned about the second one. "Only two new books this year," he reported, quickly going down the list. "The predictable one, The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, by Miranda Goshawk. But the other one worries me… Defensive Magical Theory, by Wilbert Slinkhard. Theory? For fifth years?"

After a long moment of silence, he glanced up at his friends, who were wearing identical expressions of shock and amazement, staring at their letters. "Guys?"

Crack. Fred and George Apparated right next to Harry, who was so accustomed to this by now he didn't even react. Fred opened his mouth to say something, but Harry was far more concerned about his friends' state of catatonia.

Suddenly, Hermione seemed to snap out of it and flipped her Hogwarts envelope upside down hurriedly. A badge fell out and into her hand, and Hermione broke out into a loud squeal of happiness. "I made prefect!"

Harry blinked. He'd completely forgotten prefects were chosen in their fifth year. However, the fact that Hermione had gotten the position was to be expected; she was entirely too responsible, orderly, and willing to help others not to. Plus, who else was McGonagall going to give it to? Lavender or Parvati? Both of them were notorious gossips, and focused on boys more than their schoolwork. "Well done, Hermione," he told her with a smile. "Mind looking over Ron's shoulder and seeing what he's shocked about? He looks like he's not breathing."

But she didn't have to do anything, as Ron took that moment to wheeze out, "Prefect? Me?"

Fred and George's eyes widened in stereo. "No way," the pair breathed. Fred rushed over and snagged Ron's envelope out of his other hand. He quickly flipped it upside-down, and exactly like Hermione's had, a gold and red badge fell out into his hand.

George took a step back in shock. "Fred? Tell me that's not what I think it is…"

"I'm afraid so… it's a prefect badge. Ickle Ronnie is a prefect."

In tandem, they twisted and started at Harry as though he'd suddenly destroyed all of their pranking materials. "We thought you were a cert!" they cried out.

"We thought that Dumbledore…!"

Harry cut them off. "I've got more important things to worry about. Besides," he added with a thoughtful frown as he made a connection, "making me prefect would probably end up a mistake, what with my recent anger problems." He threw Hermione a glance, hoping she'd catch what all he meant by that. _Voldemort's anger could catch me at any time. If I were a prefect, there's no telling what could happen to anyone who came up to me then. _

Hermione nodded at him, catching the message. "Calm, thoughtful, confident people are the ones chosen to be prefects," she agreed, "as we're expected to set the example for the younger students."

"Yeah, I can see how it'd be bad if Harry here put the fear of God into some ickle firsties if they got him on a bad day," Fred teased lightheartedly.

"Snape does that enough," George concurred. "And that's every time they go into Potions!"

At the mention of Snape, Ron manage to make progress from his shell-shocked state. Still silent as the grave, he took the badge from Fred and looked at it, squeezing it as though to tell that it was real. He looked up and met Harry's gaze, his face asking a multitude of questions as he held out the badge to the Boy-Who-Lived to inspect as though he wanted verification.

Harry looked at the image of a gold Gryffindor lion on a red background, mixed emotions running through him. He wasn't sure whether to be frustrated that something beyond his control kept him from becoming prefect, glad that Dumbledore understood he had enough on his plate already, jealous of Ron for having gotten it, or worried that with Hermione and Ron being prefects, he'd be left by the wayside.

Deciding to figure out his emotions later, Harry looked back up at his best friend and put on a smile he did not entirely feel. Even so, he meant it when he said, "Well done, Ron."

Ron shook his head. "I don't get it, Harry. Why didn't Dumbledore choose you? If it was just a matter of temper, I'd still go with you." He looked down, slightly embarrassed. "I get into rows all the time, especially with Hermione. Why make us both prefects? If we're supposed to set the example, then why set up a pair of prefects who get into arguments?"

Harry had to think quickly on that one. It was a really good question. "Well, when I get angry, I blow up at everyone around me," he muttered. "You at least stick to one person. And maybe it's because you two can still be friends after a quarrel. Not everyone can do that, so maybe that's another way to set an example on how two very different people can still be good friends."

Ron and Hermione smiled at each other at that, and even Harry felt better about the situation. Despite having come up with them on the spot, they made a lot of sense. Perhaps Dumbledore was trying to get everyone to branch out and make friends with the other Houses? _Not a bad idea, especially with Voldemort back. We could use the help. _

As Ron ran downstairs to tell Mrs. Weasley the good news, Harry found himself tuning out his surroundings and quietly packing, wondering what Hogwarts was going to be like. _Probably just like second year, _he thought bitterly. _Except instead of being thought of as the Heir of Slytherin, I'll be thought of as the psychotic, attention-seeking liar out for more fame and glory. _

His hand found the reassuring feel of his wand, and he gripped it tightly. _And while Death Eaters hide out there, their children will be here, finding more allies where they can. Looks like I really am going to have to feel out the other Houses, figure out where people's loyalties lie. After all, _he thought darkly, _adults are not the only ones who will participate in this war._

_

* * *

_And that's a wrap for this chapter!

Occlumency is one of those widely used and abused ideas out there in fanfiction land. The idea, depending on the writer, can incorporate mindscapes, sorting memories, reorganizing how the mind finds information, and so much more. But when I went back and looked at the books, there's nothing like that at all.

So here's my take on Occlumency. It's an advanced form of meditation and discipline in which the Occlumens allows himself to simply observe everything he can with his mind and senses by first emptying the mind and getting rid of all the background "noise". Using Occlumency consistently allows the user to become instantly aware of a mental attack from a Legilimens, or Veritaserum. However, as long as the Occlumens keeps his/her mind is empty of memory and thought, the Legilimens cannot retrieve any information. The next step Occlumency is where magic comes in. Directing the magic, the Occlumens can proceed to kick out a Legilimens.

The whole bit about Harry's life seeming to revolve around Voldemort struck me completely out of the blue. In the books, he doesn't usually go out and do anything except Quidditch or spend time with his precious few friends, which keeps him mostly sane. But he really hasn't had much opportunity for anything else. Every year he gets attacked (save third year, but then they had to save Sirius from being Kissed). There was the infatuation with Cho, but Harry's not quite as emotionally shallow as Ron. At least a ladle, rather than Ron's teaspoon. He's worried about Cho, more than he is trying to get her. Not to mention, he has far more serious things on his plate. Harry must learn Occlumency, and almost all of his focus is on that right now because he refuses to let Voldemort use him to hurt anyone. And let's face it, Harry knows that Voldemort's going to be after him for the rest of his life, especially now that he's been resurrected. Therefore, survival is Harry's mindset. And it is kinda sad... I can sympathize with Dumbledore in that Harry deserves a decent childhood at Hogwarts. It's just too bad that Harry's been forced to grow up far too quickly.


	4. Back to Hogwarts

Here we go! This chapter went kinda slow for me... I didn't want to regurgitate canon, but there was just so much there that wouldn't be affected by what had happened so far.

Chapter 4: Back to Hogwarts

Harry woke up on September 1st early, having gone to bed earlier than usual. He knew how bad the Weasley family was about being up on time to catch the Hogwarts Express, and was hoping to avoid being caught in the stampede of activity. Quietly getting up and picking up his trunk, he was careful to be as silent as possible in order not to wake up Ron as he dressed and made his way to the living room. Harry was completely unsurprised to see Hermione there with her trunk as well, reading over her copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_.

Hermione looked up as Harry sat on the couch next to her, and the two of them shared a look that expressed exasperation but affection for what they knew was going to happen. "How long have you been up?" Harry asked.

"Oh, about ten minutes," Hermione told him. "Harry, I have to say I'm very worried about who our Defense teacher is going to be."

"I agree," Harry concurred, waving his hand at the title. "Theory? For our OWL year? Something's up."

Hermione nodded, pursing her lips worriedly. "I've already read the first couple of chapters, and quite frankly Harry, this doesn't look good."

"On a scale of one to ten, where one is Lockhart, and ten is Lupin, how bad does it look?"

"I'd say, one, bordering on zero," Hermione said flatly.

Harry's mind boggled and he found himself gaping incredulously. "You're kidding. How can anyone be worse than Lockhart?"

"I wish I were kidding," the bushy-haired witch replied with a sigh. "At least Lockhart's books occasionally referenced potentially useful spells that we could look up in the library and learn on our own. But this, this… this _filth_ is completely useless!" She closed her book smartly and seemed about to throw it, before she paused and took a deep, calming breath.

"Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger, who never gets angry at the contents of a book, let alone looks even tempted to abuse it?" Harry asked, half-seriously.

Hermione flushed scarlet. "Yes, well, like you said this is our OWL year… I can't see how this book will help us at all."

Harry was quiet for a few moments, trying to sort out the implications. "I don't think that Dumbledore would have hired someone who would give us this book, Hermione. I think this is the Ministry is taking advantage of Dumbledore's difficulty finding a teacher."

"Yes, I figured as much, especially from what Dumbledore told us before," the bookworm agreed. "But to do what? This has to be bigger than just sabotaging us. That makes no sense from the Ministry perspective, they have to have something else they're trying to do."

Harry shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I think we could come up with theories all day about it, but we won't know anything until we see whoever our teacher is. Once we have a name, we can figure out what the Ministry's going to do. Whatever it is, though, I'm sure it has something to do with discrediting myself and Dumbledore, since that's all they seem to have on their minds lately."

Hermione nodded, but both students jumped and drew their wands when a voice came from the corner. "Aye, you're right." Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody pulled his Invisibility Cloak off and fixed a piercing gaze upon them. "That's what last night's meeting was about. The Ministry went and passed a new Educational Decree that allows them to 'help' the Headmaster of Hogwarts if the Headmaster cannot find a teacher for a subject. Since Dumbledore can't find anyone, they assigned one of the Minister's Undersecretaries."

Harry frowned. "So we have an extension of Fudge's will as an instructor." But then a _very _troubling thought struck him. "How frequently can the Ministry pass those – what were they? – Educational Decrees?"

"Good question, Potter," Mad-Eye praised. "There are only twenty-two in existence right now, and given how long Hogwarts has been around, do the math."

"Just because that's how many they actually passed, doesn't mean that's the extent of how often they can do it," Hermione observed. "Harry, you've seen Fudge recently. How frequent do you think he'd do it, if he could?"

Harry's frown deepened as he thought about that question. "If he could, I think he'd do everything legally possible to discredit Dumbledore and try to assert his own power. If that includes being able to pass new laws, he'd definitely do it. He's already publicly committed to the idea that Dumbledore and I are liars… Fudge will lose everything when we're proven right, regardless of what he does now. I think to him, it's only to his benefit the more he attempts to punish us. Making us look bad makes him look good."

"You two've got a good grasp on the situation," Mad-Eye commented. "Good. Like it or not, you're players in this. Got a plan for what you're gonna do at Hogwarts, Potter?"

"Still going to be learning Occlumency, for one. I've got some other ideas, but I'm still working on fleshing them out."

"Granger?"

Hermione looked a little surprised to be put on the spot like that; typically, Harry was the only one who was focused on when it came to situations like this. "Learning as much as I can – knowledge is power, after all, and the more I know the more I'm prepared for any situation. Also, OWLs are this year, and I want to make sure that after this mess with V-Voldemort is over, then we can get on with our lives."

The ex-Auror gave her an appraising look. "Good reasoning, but remember that all the knowledge in the world won't help you if you can't use it at the right time."

"Hey, Harry." Harry turned away from Mad-Eye with a smile as he faced his godfather. "Looking forward to Hogwarts?"

"Got mixed feelings, actually, but it'll definitely be nice to use magic again."

Sirius let loose a barking laugh, a grin stretching across his face. "Oh, I remember that feeling! The rush of being able to use magic freely at school! I really do wonder sometimes why they don't let students practice at home…"

"UP!" came Mrs. Weasley's scream. "OUT OF BED! WE'RE RUNNING LATE!"

Surprisingly, Mrs. Black didn't start screaming, but when Harry went and looked, he found out that the Weasley matriarch was physically holding the curtains shut, muffling the occupant as she bellowed at her children to get ready.

Hermione and Harry exchanged knowing a glance as they watched the train wreck – that is, the Weasley family morning ritual – occur. But soon enough, everyone was more or less ready to go.

"Hmph. Podmore's late," Mad-Eye grumbled. "We're one short of the full guard, and he's got my spare Invisibility Cloak to boot."

Harry let out a disgruntled grunt; he didn't really care for a guard. _What's Voldemort gonna do, hide in the bushes and attack me? Or send his Death Eaters to attack? _he thought sarcastically.

"Leave your luggage and owls, Alastor's going to take care of it," Mrs. Weasley said quietly to everyone, having abandoned her post as Mrs. Black's silencer. "Harry, you're with me and Tonks. Oh for heaven's sake, Sirius! Dumbledore told you no!"

Right beside Harry, Sirius had transformed into a large black dog, and was sitting next to Harry, obstinately refusing to not be included.

Pressed for time, Mrs. Weasley sighed and had to relent. Besides, Alastor was right about them being one short for a guard. And so Harry found himself briskly walking, keeping pace with both Tonks and the Weasley mother of seven, while Sirius bounded around, running happily out in the sun.

_It really has been too long since he's been outside, _Harry thought sadly, even as he smiled at Padfoot as the dog chased a few cats around just for fun. All too soon, it seemed, the walk had to end and Harry found himself back on Platform 9 ¾, staring at the Hogwarts Express.

Barely paying attention to where a disguised Mad-Eye wheeled all of the trunks belonging to himself and his schoolmates back to Mrs. Weasley, joined shortly thereafter by Harry's friends, Harry glanced down at Padfoot. The Animagus looked back up at him, a glimmer of intelligence behind the canine eyes. Harry knelt down and gave him a good scratch behind the ears. "I'll be careful this year, so don't worry too much about me."

Padfoot let out a low whine, quite clearly communicating that he'd worry no matter what Harry said. Harry smiled sadly; there really wasn't much more he could say. With Voldemort back, was any place truly safe? An idea struck, all of a sudden, and Harry knew that if for nothing else than Sirius's sanity, he had to share it. "Hey, do me a favor?" he whispered. "I know you're cooped up in that house, but if you're looking for something to do, could you find out who in the Ministry has kids at Hogwarts, and figure out which side they belong to? I just really want to know who I need to keep an eye on this year."

The great black dog barked once happily, before spinning around and chasing its tail for a few seconds.

Harry couldn't help but smile at his godfather's antics as he rose once more to a standing position. Now Sirius had something he could do to help, and hopefully wouldn't feel so helpless and trapped in his own home.

"Nice dog!" a friendly voice called out. Harry looked to his left and saw a grinning Lee Jordan.

"The best," Harry agreed, before tuning back into what everyone else was saying.

"I'll be reporting Sturgis to Dumbledore," Moody told Mrs. Weasley. "That's the second time he's not turned up in a week. Getting as unreliable as Mundungus."

"Well, look after yourselves," Lupin told his compatriots, shaking hands all around before turning to Harry and clapping him on the shoulder. "You too, Harry."

"Yeah, keep your head down and your eyes peeled," Moody warned. "And watch what you write, all of you; you never know who's going to see it nowadays."

"It's been great meeting all of you!" Tonks said with a smile, giving Ginny and Hermione a hug.

The Hogwarts Express let off its warning whistle, signaling that it was about to leave. Only half-listening to Mrs. Weasley's pleadings for them to stay safe and write often, Harry grabbed his trunk and owl cage from the trolley that Moody had brought, and hurried to the train, quickly followed by his friends.

Waving goodbye from a window as the train started to move, Harry chuckled to see Padfoot chasing after him, determined to see him until the end. Several seconds later, though, he was out of sight.

"He shouldn't have come," Hermione worried.

"Oh give him a break, Hermione!" Ron chided. "He hasn't been outside in ages!"

"Well," Fred said, clapping his hands together. "Can't stay to chat. Got business to discuss with Lee." And with that, he and George disappeared into a compartment.

"Suppose we should get a compartment too?" Harry suggested.

Hermione and Ron exchanged a slightly embarrassed, slightly dismayed look. "Er, well," Ron stuttered.

"Ron and I have to go to the prefect carriage first," Hermione explained awkwardly. "We probably won't have to stay the whole time though… We're only supposed to receive instructions from the Head Boy and Girl, then occasionally patrol."

"Oh." Harry blinked, then sighed. "Alright then. I'll just find us a place, and you come find me when you're done."

Ron let loose a relieved sigh, which rankled Harry a bit; had he really expected him to become angry over that? If Harry was honest with himself, he was a bit disappointed, but he wasn't going to try to ruin this for Ron.

The redheaded boy opened his mouth, probably for more reassurance, but Harry cut him off with a smile. "Well, what're you two waiting for? Ginny and I will find us a compartment. See you in a bit!"

With that, Ron and Hermione smiled back, and made their way towards the prefect compartment, while Harry and Ginny made their way progressively further back, peering into the compartments one by one. Each one seemed full so far, and Harry was starkly reminded of the Daily Prophet's calling him a lying, attention-seeking show-off when he realized that they staring back at him.

_They'll see, _he thought furiously. _When will they realize that I haven't done anything to deserve this? _

"Harry…"

"I know, I know," Harry grumbled, taking a couple of deep breaths to calm down.

It was then that they encountered Neville in the last carriage, who was standing outside a compartment, looking nervous even as he struggled to maintain a one-handed grip on his always-escaping toad, Trevor, while using his other hand to work his trunk. "Hi Harry… Hi Ginny…" he panted. "Everywhere's full, I can't find a seat…"

Ginny managed to push past him to look into the compartment behind Neville. "That one's available," she commented. "There's only Loony Lovegood in there."

"I don't want to be a bother…"

"Don't be silly, she's alright."

Quickly enough, Harry was seated across from a blond girl, wearing a necklace of butterbeer corks, who was reading a magazine upside-down. A moment of focus allowed him to make out the word "Quibbler" as the title.

Just like all the others Harry had encountered on the train so far, Luna stopped what she was doing and stared at him. "You're Harry Potter."

"I know," Harry replied dryly, his eyes slightly narrowed as he tried to figure out what Luna thought of him so far.

But his attempts were foiled when she turned her head to Neville. "But I don't know who you are."

Harry tuned out the sounds of his companions, instead focusing on what was yet to come. He needed to work out the details of how he was going to spend this year at Hogwarts. _If Hermione's right –and she usually is – then our Defense teacher is going to be useless. But I can't afford to spend a year without learning how to defend myself! _

_Neither can the rest of the students, _a little voice that sounded like Hermione reminded him. _Especially since Voldemort's back. _

Harry frowned pensively, gazing without seeing at the countryside on the other side of the window. _How can I change that? _He spent several minutes completely immersed in his own thoughts, trying to form a plan, but he was interrupted by an unexpected arrival.

"Um… hello, Harry. Is this a bad time?"

Harry turned from the window, recognizing the voice. "Hello, Cho. No, it's alright." He found himself smiling sadly. "Neville, Ginny, Luna, excuse me for a few minutes, would you?"

Receiving a mumbled "Alright," from Neville, a curious look from Ginny, and no response from Luna, Harry stood up and walked out of the compartment with Cho.

They stood in silence for a minute, Harry waiting patiently as Cho took a deep breath, obviously trying to work up her courage to say something. "Harry… I… I need to know what happened to Cedric."

Harry nodded. "I expected you would. Let's find a quiet place…" Cho watched as his face scrunched up a little in remembered emotional pain. "I don't think I can relive it with anyone else just yet… but you of all people deserve to know."

They walked towards the very end of the train, past the last compartment and sat down on a bench. Both were silent for a couple of minutes, and Cho was beginning to wonder if Harry was even able to share with her when the Boy-Who-Lived began speaking.

"How much do you already know?"

"I saw you and Cedric enter the maze together, and we saw that the two of you gripped the Triwizard Cup together after arguing for a minute. We couldn't hear what was said. You were missing for a while, there was a lot of panic going on, but then you came back with C-C-Cedric's b-b-body." Cho's voice cracked at the end, tears gathering in her eyes. "Sorry," she mumbled, reaching for a handkerchief.

"Don't be sorry for grieving," Harry murmured, watching her with a little discomfort. He knew that by the end of his tale, Cho would be crying in earnest, and Harry wasn't sure how to deal with a crying woman. "Rather, I'm sorry I wasn't able to save him."

Cho took a deep, steadying breath, releasing it slowly. "What happened after?"

"Cedric and I argued over who should take the cup. Cedric thought I should because I had saved him. I thought he should because by all rights he was the true Hogwarts Champion, my name got tossed in against my will by someone Confunding the Goblet of Fire, and he had helped me too. Finally, I suggested we take it together because we were tied for points, and that way we could both win for Hogwarts. Cedric agreed," Harry began. "The Cup was a Portkey charmed by a Death Eater at Hogwarts. It took us to a graveyard. Cedric and I were confused, but he…" Harry swallowed, those painful last words coming back to him. "He said, 'Wands out, d'you reckon?' I agreed, and we walked for a minute. But then my scar flared in extreme pain and I collapsed, and there was a high, cold voice that whispered, 'Kill the spare.'"

Cho shivered. "Was that…?"

Harry nodded grimly. "That was Voldemort. My scar serves as a warning, flaring up when he gets near. One of his servants was with him, had given him a temporary body. That servant used Voldemort's own wand to cast the Killing Curse. Cedric didn't even have a chance to dodge."

Cho gasped. "Then… if he hadn't taken the Cup with you…"

"Yeah," Harry agreed miserably, his head hung. "Then he'd still be alive. Cedric's death was completely pointless. To Voldemort, he was nothing but a spare enemy. He only needed one alive to complete his rebirth, and he chose me because he wanted whatever it was that saved me from dying as a baby."

Cho stood up slowly. "I… I'm sorry, Harry," she finally managed, her voice quivering, "but do you know who killed him?"

"… Yes, but you wouldn't believe me if I told you," Harry replied quietly.

"I would!" Cho insisted, turning to face him, tears streaming down her face. "Please, Harry, I beg you! Tell me!"

Harry bit his lip, trying to decide. He knew that Cho would not stop until she had answers; Harry knew that he wouldn't, if he were in her situation. But to reveal that Peter Pettigrew had done it would lead to the revelation of far more, such as how Sirius had escaped from Azakaban, and a huge explanation for Sirius's actions two years ago, not to mention where he was hiding now. Harry didn't know or trust Cho enough to reveal those secrets to her. So, he decided to tell her part of the truth, hoping she would be satisfied. "The man who did was called Wormtail."

"Wormtail…" Cho nodded abruptly. "I will remember that name."

"Cho, don't devote your life to vengeance," Harry warned. "I understand how you feel, but the best thing you could do right now is train to survive, not to kill!"

"What would you know about how I feel?" Cho challenged angrily.

"You are not the only one who is grieving for Cedric!" Harry yelled back before he could stop himself, anger flaring as he stood up. "He was a good man, you'll never find a friend more loyal or stout-hearted as he was! Cedric Diggory was the true Hogwarts Champion, no matter what anyone says, and he did not deserve to die! Do you think I don't have a hard time looking in the mirror every morning? I have to live with the fact that if it were not for me, Cedric would still be alive!"

Cho took a step back, stricken by his words, but Harry could not stop now. "I looked up to him, did you know that, Cho?" he went on. "He was smart, good-looking, kind, loyal, brave, honorable, and skilled with magic! And all through that bloody Tournament, he played by the rules when no one else did, and he STILL would have won! Cedric Diggory was a man who deserved far more than to die a pointless death for accidentally being caught in a plot meant for me!" Harry took a deep breath, fixing his old crush with a glare so cold she shivered. "Cedric was killed in that graveyard because I wanted him to have the glory of being the winner of the Triwizard Tournament. I have to live with that guilt. So don't you dare, don't you DARE accuse me of not knowing grief!"

Harry then stalked right past her around the corner, and was mildly surprised to see over a dozen faces staring back at him. Before even one of them could open their mouth, Harry's eyes narrowed as he struggled to control his temper. "Back off," he growled. "I'm not in the best of moods, and I am really, _really _tired of being stared at like an exhibit in a zoo!"

They scattered, diving back into their compartments or dashing back through the back door to other carriages on the train. Still burning with rage, Harry stomped his way back towards his own compartment, but paused when he heard Cho burst into sobs. Anger fading, his eyes fell to his hand where he was about to open the compartment door.

_I let my anger affect my actions again… _he realized belatedly. Even so, Harry found he did not regret speaking his harsh words to Cho. Somehow, he felt a little better actually, after getting his feelings concerning the circumstances of Cedric's demise off his chest. Hopefully, Cho could find some closure, knowing the story of how her boyfriend had died.

Harry opened the compartment door and silently made his way back to his seat, slumping against it. "How loud were we?" he asked quietly.

"Pretty loud at the end," Luna informed him matter-of-factly. "Loud enough to annoy the Blibbering Humdingers."

Harry sighed, ignoring the reference to a creature he hadn't heard of before. "Great. As if people didn't have enough reasons to stare at me."

"Don't worry, Harry," Ginny tried to console. "Who knows? Maybe they'll get the hint this year."

Harry didn't feel that poor attempt deserved a response and just sighed. His outburst had left him tired and emotionally drained. What he wouldn't give for some mindless activity right about now to take his mind off things… "Exploding Snap, anyone?"

Hermione and Ron didn't return from the prefect's carriage for almost an hour, and by then the snack trolley had already come and gone. Looking as though he'd come from History of Magic under a spell that forced him to stay awake, Ron snagged one of Harry's Chocolate Frogs and sat down heavily next to him.

"Well, there are two prefects from each House," Hermione told him, taking a seat opposite Ginny. "Boy and girl from each."

"Guess who's a Slytherin prefect?" Ron said dully, biting into his Frog a moment later.

"Malfoy," Harry replied instantly, certain that it had to be him.

Ron nodded wearily, finishing the treat and taking another from Harry's stash.

"And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson is the girl for Slytherin," Hermione spat with uncharacteristic malice. "How she got to be prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll is beyond me…"

Harry was completely unsurprised by this news; if Malfoy had gotten it, it was almost certain that Pansy had as well. Those two were the worst of the Slytherins by far. "What about Hufflepuff?"

"Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott," Ron answered thickly, leaning back in his seat.

"And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw," finished Hermione.

Harry frowned. He'd have to remember those names; if he got into anywhere near as much trouble as he had for the last few years, it could be handy to have prefects sticking up for him. "What're they like?"

"Dunno," Ron replied with a shrug. "They didn't really talk much. We were in there just getting information on what we're supposed to do."

Harry frowned in thought. He and Ron had previous experience with Padma Patil, as it was through him that Ron had acquired that date for the Yule Ball last year. Harry himself had gone with her twin sister in Gryffindor, Parvati.

Ron glanced at his watch. "Hermione, it's almost time to do our patrol." Seeing the blank looks on Harry and Neville, he quickly elaborated. "We're supposed to check up on things every so often, and assign appropriate punishments if people are misbehaving. I can't wait to catch Crabbe or Goyle at something…"

"Ron!" Hermione spoke up sharply. "You are not supposed to abuse your authority like that!"

"Right, like Malfoy won't abuse his," Ron replied sarcastically.

"So you're just going to descend to his level?"

"No, I'm just going to get his mates before he gets mine."

"Ron." Harry's voice startled the youngest Weasley son; Harry very rarely got involved with an argument between him and Hermione. "I hate to burst your bubble, mate, but remember that they pretty much never leave Malfoy's side. That knocks out most of the things you could catch them at, and Malfoy's smart enough to keep them from being caught at anything else."

Ron sighed; he could hear the logic, but he really didn't like it. "Shame, that…"

Hermione gave him an exasperated look. "C'mon, Ron, it's time for our patrol."

She stood up to open the compartment door, but it opened before she could get to it. Harry's eyes narrowed at the sight of a smirking Draco Malfoy in front of his two cronies. "What do you want, Malfoy?" he asked with the slightest hint of aggression. Harry's anger, seemingly always there just under the surface and waiting for the slightest opportunity, was rising again.

"Careful with the tone, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention," Malfoy drawled. "You see, I, unlike you, am a prefect. Which mean that I, again unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."

"Nice," Harry congratulated sarcastically. "Now you can use your own authority instead of always running to dear old dad every time something happens. I'm sure your father will appreciate not being bugged by his son over every little thing."

Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Neville laughed aloud, making Malfoy's lip curl. "Watch yourself, Potter, because I'll be dogging your footsteps in case you step out of line."

Harry's expression immediately darkened, hearing the blatant reference to his godfather. He drew his wand, and vaguely registered the sounds of his friends drawing theirs as well. "Get out, Malfoy. You may have heard that I'm a bit… unstable recently according to the Prophet…" Harry's smile was positively predatory as he got up, slowly walking towards the blond Slytherin, who paled with every small step Harry took. "Do you want to see how unstable I really am?"

"Y-You… you wouldn't," Malfoy stuttered. "I am a prefect!"

"Do you really think taking points, or giving me detentions, is anywhere on my list of caring right now?" Harry whispered harshly, taking another step. Malfoy unconsciously tried to take a step back, running into his cronies. "I've had enough of you. If you don't leave right now, we will make you. So please, stick around. I have a few curses I'd like to try…"

Desperately trying to regain his superiority, Malfoy sniffed and turned his head. "You couldn't touch me with a single spell if I stood still. C'mon, Crabbe, Goyle. Let's go see if we can find the trolley and get some sweets."

As soon as the door closed, Harry sat down heavily, sheathing his wand once again. He looked up and met Hermione's gaze. She looked just as unnerved as Harry felt; she'd no doubt caught the reference to Sirius as well.

"That was wicked!" Ron breathed. "You just totally put Malfoy in his place!"

"Yeah…" Harry forced a smile. But he was concerned; his anger had taken him down a strange turn there; Harry was not one for intimidation, and it had come to him uncomfortably easily. _I really need to master Occlumency and find out whether this anger is mine sooner rather than later, _Harry thought to himself worriedly. In the meantime, however, Harry could do nothing but practice his Occlumency and wait to arrive at Hogwarts.

* * *

Yep, Harry's been making some changes this chapter. Sirius isn't going to be completely bored and depressed at being useless, at least not for a while. Harry's given him a mission, and he sure as hell isn't going to fail it!

I always wondered just what Cho wanted that day on the train... My take on it is that she wanted to talk to him not for a romantic sense, but for closure about Cedric. Before i knew it, I was writing another angry rant from Harry.

One thing that Harry will realize, though, is that angry actions tend to have unexpected consequences...


	5. Return of the Toad

This one took a long, long time. I don't spend much time on it, to be honest - most of my inspiration is for my Bleach fic. But at the same time, I don't want to abandon another story. So it IS being worked on. Slowly.

Anyway, on to the chapter.

* * *

Chapter 5: Return of the Toad

Harry, though deep in his thoughts, was no so preoccupied that he missed the existence of strange skeletal horse-like things that were drawing the carriages that took the students to Hogwarts. He approached a carriage with Ron and Hermione, closely followed by Neville, Ginny and Luna. "Um, Ron? If I told you that I'm seeing strange creatures pulling the carriages to school, would you tell me that I'm seeing things no one else can?"

Ron blinked, and looked at where Harry was pointing. "I don't see anything. Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm not sure," Harry responded slowly. "Hermione? Are there creatures that are invisible to some, but not to everyone?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I don't know… I'm sure there are, but why would they reveal themselves to you and not us?"

"I don't know…"

"Don't worry, Harry," Luna reassured him. "You're not going mad. I can see them too."

"You can?" Harry wasn't sure what to make of this – Luna seemed to believe in several creatures that he'd never heard of. Then again, for all he knew they could be real. "Have they…"

"They've always been there, pulling the carriages," Luna stated dreamily. "I've been able to see them since my first day here."

"So have I," Neville added quietly from beside Ron. "They're called Thestrals, Harry. You can only see them after you've seen someone die."

That killed the mood quite quickly as everyone was forcibly reminded of Cedric Diggory's demise. Harry lowered his eyes to the ground as his heart ached with guilt. _Why did he have to die? _He sighed, before suddenly realizing that if Neville and Luna could see them, then they had to have witnessed death too! But he couldn't think of a gentle way to ask…

"It was my grandfather," Neville spoke up, seeming to read Harry's thoughts.

Luna nodded. "My mother," she supplied. "She liked to experiment, and one day when I was nine, one of those went wrong."

Harry almost winced at that information. "I'm sorry to hear that," he offered.

"It was rather horrible," Luna admitted in a conversational sort of tone, as though she were talking about the latest news rather than a deeply traumatic event. "But while I still feel sad about it sometimes, I still have my Dad. Besides, it's not like I won't see her after it's my time to die. I'm just glad she didn't come back as a ghost, forever to haunt this plane… It'd be frightfully dull after a while."

Strange though her tone was, Harry's spirits felt a bit lighter at that. He hadn't remembered that the fact that there were ghosts provided solid – or rather, transparent – evidence that there was an afterlife. _Who knows, maybe my parents are chatting with Cedric right now. _Harrylet out a small smile at the thought. "You're right, Luna," he agreed, startling the others who had been quite solemn at her words. "We'll get to see them someday. Let's talk of happier things for now – I'm sure there will be time enough for gloom and doom later."

Harry clambered inside the carriage, closely followed by his friends – Neville and Luna told everyone about their summers, while Harry related his experience at the trial and how Dumbledore had turned things back around on the Ministry. But all too soon, they had arrived at the castle.

Exiting the carriage, Harry led the way to the Great Hall. As Luna drifted away towards the Ravenclaw table, Harry touched her on the shoulder and gave a simple, whispered, "Thanks…"

"Anytime, Harry…" With that, Luna pulled away gently and sat down at her table. Harry did the same at the Gryffindor table, sitting across from Ron and beside Hermione, while Neville sat next to Ron. Ginny had apparently been flagged down by a few fourth years, and had meandered to sit with them. Glancing up at the staff table, Harry's eyes widened as he realized there was a very important person missing.

"Hagrid's not here."

"What?" Ron and Hermione too scanned the table, though it was clearly evident Harry spoke the truth – Hagrid was simply far too large to miss, being half-giant.

"That's odd…" Hermione murmured. "You don't think he's… hurt or anything?"

"No," Harry replied at once. "Maybe just taking a while longer on whatever Dumbledore's having him do?"

Ron's expression cleared up at that, looking far more reassured. "Yeah… yeah, that sounds right."

Hermione bit her lip, not quite convinced. She looked up towards the staff table again, looking for something. "Who's that?" she suddenly asked sharply, pointing towards the middle.

Harry took a closer look. In the center, in his tall, high-backed golden chair, was Dumbledore, wearing deep-purple robes scattered with stars and a matching hat. _He looks like the Muggle idea of Merlin more than ever now, _Harry thought to himself, amused, before continuing on, trying to see who Hermione was talking about.

Dumbledore seemed to be listening to a woman quite squat, wearing a fluffy pink cardigan that did nothing to detract from her toad-like face… Harry gave a start as he recognized her. "It's Umbridge, that woman from my trial! She works for Fudge."

"Guess we know who is Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher now," Ron commented. "She doesn't look like much, does she?"

"Do you know anything about her?" Hermione asked Harry quickly.

Harry racked his brains for a few moments. "Not really. She voted against me, seems to really respect or suck up to Fudge."

Hermione groaned. "That's not good. Harry, if she's firmly on Fudge's side, she's going to do her best to make you recant that V-V-Voldemort's back, and make this year absolutely miserable for you!"

Harry's expression darkened as he stared up at the woman at the staff table. Perhaps feeling his eyes upon her, she turned to look at him, and the two locked gazes. She smirked, and Harry felt a flash of anger at her, despite Umbridge not having done anything yet.

"So, it's her turn, huh?" Harry muttered harshly. "I wonder if she knows about my history regarding Defense teachers…"

"One dead, one having lost all memory, one sacked, one Kissed by dementors…" Ron listed. "What next? Suicide by Potter?"

"Ron!" Hermione cried out, scandalized.

"What? It's true! Harry's had something to do with every single Defense teacher having lost their job since we came here!" Ron defended himself.

It was a harsh, but true statement, Harry mused, ignoring his two best friends as they bickered. _So far, each of my Professors has left in a way rather ironic to them. Quirrel, who sought the Elixir of Life, died from the life-giving protection my mother left me. Lockhart, who made a living off of Memory Charms, Obliviated his whole life away. Lupin, who taught us how to defend against Dark creatures, was revealed to be a Dark creature himself. Crouch Jr., who helped resurrect Voldemort, was Kissed by the dementors that would soon join him. If the trend continues, I wonder how Umbridge will go… _He snickered. _Probably eaten by a giant toad. _

Harry vaguely noted Professor Grubbly-Plank appear behind the staff table and seat herself in what should have been Hagrid's seat. _Time for sorting, then. _

Indeed it was, as Professor McGonagall opened the Great Hall doors a few seconds later, leading the new first years. The buzz of talk that had permeated the Great Hall faded, and McGonagall set down the customary stool and the Sorting Hat. The rip on its brim opened wide like a mouth, and the Sorting Hat began to sing its song.

"Branched out a bit, hasn't it?" Ron commented after it was done.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, looking pensively at the Hat. Usually, the Sorting Hat stuck to describing the qualities sought by the four Houses… He didn't remember it giving warnings before. Then again, he'd only been able to be there for two of his four previous years due to unfortunate circumstances.

"That's the advice it always gives, when the times are troubled," Nearly-Headless Nick, the Gryffindor House ghost, told them knowledgeably as he drifted by. "Be strong from within, unite the Houses."

"It's not a bad idea," Hermione said in a very thoughtful voice. "If the children are united, then it follows that their parents will as well, for their sake."

Ron snorted. "As if we'll make nice with the Slytherins," he argued derisively.

Harry frowned; that comment rubbed him wrong, somehow, despite how he could clearly see many of the returning Slytherins glaring in their direction. "I was nearly sorted into Slytherin, Ron. They can't be all bad."

Ron opened his mouth to answer, but Nick promptly shushed him – McGonagall was starting to call out the names of the new students, but Harry found he could hardly pay attention – his adrenaline had just been triggered due to the tingling sense of an unexpected mental invasion. Due to his weeks of practice with Thornetrope, Harry was able to clamp down on his instinct to panic and instead began his Occlumency technique, clearing his mind much faster than he'd ever managed before – this time it merely took him seconds.

In the end, Harry's mind was mostly cleared – the only thought left was his intention to find and identify the attacker. Most people's eyes were on the Sorting, so it was likely that whoever was digging around in his head would be the only one looking at him.

Sure enough, Harry found his eyes locked with Snape's. People were talking, someone had just been Sorted, but Harry couldn't hear them – he was too focused on Snape. _Get out!_ he mentally snarled, flexing his mind and feeling his magic respond.

And then the presence was gone, and Snape had a surprised look on his face for a moment, before it was replaced by cunning calculation. But if he was surprised, it was nothing compared to how Harry felt – he had done it! He had managed to throw an accomplished Legilimens out of his head! And it was Snape to boot! Granted, Snape probably hadn't been trying with all his might, and it wasn't one of the more subtle varieties of Legilimency either, but it was still far better than Harry had done to date, and it was a tangible – or at least observable, as a meeting of the minds was hardly physical in any sense of the word – sign of progress!

Meanwhile, Snape was eyeing the son of his childhood nemesis critically. _That was… a surprisingly strong defense. _In truth, he had expected Potter to struggle and ultimately fail to clear his mind – he was far too emotional, and Snape strongly doubted that a single summer could convince him to _think_ rather than _feel_, let alone be able to banish all but the emotions necessary at a given moment.

He had, of course, detected that it took Potter a measurable amount of time to clear his mind, and even then the boy hadn't fully succeeded. But it had proven sufficient to keep the Potions Master from accessing his mind as he wanted, at least with the minimal amount of effort Snape had been using. That Potter had been able to eject him forcefully was also admittedly impressive for someone so young and emotionally immature.

The look on Potter's face now was enough for Snape to determine, however, that it was his first time doing such a feat. _Hmph. A fluke, _Snape decided. _He'll no doubt become even more arrogant, thinking that he's actually succeeded. I'll show him the falsity of that in our next class together. He could use some humility. _Once more simultaneously satisfied and angry that Potter was as arrogant as his father, Snape turned his attention back to the Sorting.

Shortly thereafter, every new student was sitting with their respective House, and Dumbledore rose to address the school. "To our newcomers," he began with a beaming smile and wide arms, "welcome! To our old hands - welcome back! There is a time for speechmaking, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

Harry couldn't help but chuckle and clap his hands with the majority of the students as Dumbledore sat neatly and threw his beard over his shoulder to keep it from getting in the way of his eating, just in time for a delicious feast to appear on all the tables, making their magically-enforced joints groan under the weight.

Taking some steak and kidney pie, Harry kept quiet and tried to listen. He really wanted to avoid attention this year if it was at all possible, especially with the Ministry observing the school. With Fudge's refusal to admit that Voldemort had returned, Harry needed to work quietly to get stronger, make some allies, and try to cripple whatever threats he could.

At the last thought, Harry found his eyes fixed on Draco Malfoy at the Slytherin table. As if Harry's gaze were a magnet, Draco looked away from his plate and locked eyes with his archrival. The platinum blond paled again, pausing in his eating as he looked at Harry with hastily-hidden fear.

But Harry had caught the emotion before it could be locked away, and he looked back at his plate, hiding his expression. How was he supposed to feel? Was it right for him to feel satisfied that he'd hopefully cowed his school rival enough for Harry to focus on bigger problems, like Voldemort? Or should he be guilty that he'd done it in a way that made Draco fear him? The Malfoy scion was the son of a Death Eater, and had given every indication that he would be joining Voldemort when he reached an appropriate age. In fact, there was no way to know for sure whether Draco was working for them now, Harry realized, given that Lucius was in Voldemort's Inner Circle. But still, that brief look of fright… it troubled Harry.

Harry knew that the war with Voldemort was going to terrify pretty much everyone that wasn't on his side, but was it right to fight fear with fear? Harry looked up at Dumbledore, who had just risen to give his post-feast speech. It was said that Dumbledore was the only one Voldemort had ever been afraid of. But was that something that Dumbledore had cultivated? It was obvious that it had saved lives – Voldemort didn't want to chance fighting Dumbledore, or he would have already attacked and killed Merlin knew how many people. But Harry didn't want to equate Draco with Voldemort – while he despised the Malfoy heir, he didn't really want him dead, just out of the way so Harry could _focus _on more important things. So, what was the right way to take?

Harry would have continued to ruminate on the subject, but his thought process stopped dead when he heard Umbridge clear her throat and rise to her feet right in the middle of Dumbledore's speech.

"Hem, hem."

Dumbledore looked a little taken aback, but recovered gracefully at sat down smartly, attentively watching the Ministry-sent representative as though he would love nothing more than to listen to her speak. The other teachers, however, were not nearly so composed. McGonagall's lips were no longer visible, so thin they were that only a line could be seen, and Flitwick was outright staring incredulously.

Glancing around the Great Hall, Harry saw confused looks sent his way as well, though he didn't know why. But apparently his matching expression of surprise was enough answer for them, as they turned once more to Umbridge.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."

Harry stared. _Did I miss something?_ Sure, he hadn't paid attention to Dumbledore's actual words, but he hardly thought that the Headmaster would give such an enthused welcome to warrant Umbridge's response.

Umbridge cleared her throat again, apparently only a little taken aback by the stark silence and stares of the children before her. "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled widely, but it struck Harry as very false. "And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!"

_She must be completely blind,_ Harry thought to himself incredulously. _No one's happy she's here except her and Fudge. And would you stop talking to us like we're five? _

He hadn't realized he'd muttered aloud before hearing mumbles and nods of agreement from those within earshot. "You said it, Harry," Seamus whispered back.

But apparently the noise where there had once been silence had drawn Umbridge's attention, and Harry met her gaze stolidly, daring her to comment on it. But after a few moments, she broke the stalemate and readdressed the school in a dull, rehearsed tone, as though she'd been forced to memorize a speech for this purpose.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back to her. McGonagall and Snape, much to Harry's surprise, seemed to be united in identical expressions, with white lips firmly pressed together as though struggling to hold back what they wanted to say, and furrowed brows that Harry knew meant that they were displeased but unable to do anything about it at present. He'd seen the look often enough on Aunt Petunia's face when she was forced to take Harry anywhere.

Umbridge once more cleared her throat with a "Hem, hem", and opened her mouth to continue her spiel. "Need a cough drop, Professor?" Harry muttered mutinously, unable to help himself. She'd made that extremely irritating sound several times in the last few minutes, and he had better things to do than to listen to Fudge's representative give pointlessly long speeches that threatened to put everyone in the Great Hall to sleep.

Ron couldn't help it and let loose a snicker. Hermione, for once, didn't even spare him a glance. She too was staring avidly at Umbridge as though she were trying to puzzle out something. The last time Harry had seen that look on her face, it was when she was figuring out what the monster in the Chamber of Secrets was. _What needs figuring out? She works for Fudge and is trying to take me down. Maybe she's trying to figure out what angle Umbridge'll use? _Deciding to listen closely as well, just in case there was some nugget of information that could be useful later, Harry opened his ears and paid close attention. Who knew when some tiny detail would come in handy?

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation…"

Alarm bells rang in Harry's head as his eyes narrowed. _Progress for progress's sake must be discouraged? Progress is only ever done because of a discovered flaw. What's she playing at?_

"… because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

_Pruning practices that ought to be prohibited. She'll be deciding what we can and can't do? _Harry met Hermione's eyes, matching looks of horror on their faces.

Hermione, however, had already jumped ahead to the next conclusion. "The Educational Decrees…" she hissed to her best friend.

Harry blanched as the whole picture revealed itself to him. The Educational Decree that allowed Umbridge in; it was a way to get a Ministry agent inside Hogwarts to create and enforce other Educational Decrees. _They're trying to reduce Dumbledore's power as much as possible. And punish me for telling the truth. _

Harry found himself clenching his fists as he glared at Umbridge. He'd had it with the Ministry, and he wanted her gone. He shifted his gaze to rest of the teachers. McGonagall looked almost angry, and Snape's mouth had twisted into a derisive sneer. Sprout's face was a mask of unpleasant surprise, while Dumbledore's expression gave nothing away, though the ever-present twinkle had diminished significantly.

Umbridge sat down, and Harry fell back into pensive thought as Dumbledore and the other teachers gave only a couple of claps. The students themselves seemed to have been bored stupid and were taken completely by surprise that it was over, as not one of the students applauded.

Harry was barely aware when Dumbledore dismissed the school, mindlessly getting up and following his friends as they guided the first years to the Gryffindor dorm. Noting the password – "Mimbulus mimbletonia" – and mumbling it under his breath a few times to help him remember it later, Harry waved goodnight to his friends in the Gryffindor common room and made his way up to his room. He wanted to some peace and quiet to help him work on his Occlumency; his head was feeling very loud with all the frustrated thoughts bouncing around, and Harry figured he should at least do something productive before bed.

Dean and Seamus had apparently made it in before him, and had just started digging posters out of their trunks. Dean was pulling out a Muggle football poster, but Harry was more curious about why they'd suddenly stopped talking – he'd heard their voices on the way up, but as soon as the door had opened they had silenced. _Maybe it's a personal conversation? _Harry mentally shrugged – he had bigger things to worry about.

"Hey," Harry muttered distractedly.

"Hi, Harry. How was your summer?" Dean asked.

Harry opened his mouth to say "Fine", but then paused and cocked his head, reconsidering the answer. In all honesty, it had been anything but fine – physically and spiritually attacked by dementors, politically attacked by the Ministry, psychically and emotionally under attack by Voldemort… those were the highlights, and while it was just another day in the life of Harry Potter, he was certain anyone else would not consider themselves fine afterwards. "Horrid. Yours?"

Dean blinked, obviously not having expected that as an answer. "I had an alright summer, but what was so horrid about yours?"

"Got attacked by dementors in a Muggle neighborhood," Harry said shortly as he opened his trunk. "Then the Ministry tried to expel me for underage magic without hearing my side of the story, and when Dumbledore called them on it they put me on trial in front of the Wizengamot."

Seamus turned around with a strange expression, one that Harry couldn't readily decipher, but it was obvious that he was incredulous. "You're kidding!"

"I wish." Harry pulled off his Hogwarts robes and sat on his bed cross-legged, closing his eyes. "Fudge didn't believe that there had been dementors there – after all, they're supposed to be under Ministry control. Worse, there wasn't exactly proof that they had been – no one got Kissed, and the only ones attacked were me and my cousin. I'm just glad that Dumbledore was there, even though Fudge changed the time of the trial on the morning of it."

Seamus laughed humorlessly. "Looks like you and I are both lucky to be coming back to Hogwarts this year."

That startled Harry out of his attempt to clear his mind. He opened his eyes and stared at Seamus, who wasn't looking at him, pulling on his pajamas. "What?"

"Me mam didn't want me coming back to Hogwarts."

"But why?"

"Well… because of you, I suppose," Seamus replied calmly.

Harry sighed. "She believes the Prophetand thinks I'm a liar, then? And Dumbledore's an old fool?"

Seamus fidgeted for a few moments before shrugging. "Yeah. Something like that."

Harry shook his head and didn't respond, instead closing his eyes again. He should've known this would happen – nearly everyone read the Daily Prophet, and most just preferred to believe what was written there. It was one of the reasons Rita Skeeter was such a horrible woman – no matter what manner of things she wrote, it seemed like everyone believed her.

"Well?" Seamus asked, his voice a little high.

"What do you want me to say, Seamus?" Harry answered with a question of his own, a little more coolly than he meant to say it. "You heard me and Dumbledore in June. I'm not going to waste my breath trying to convince you, or your mother, that Voldemort's back." He opened his eyes again and fixed a piercing stare at his roommate. "You'd think after four years of rooming with me, you'd know better than to think that I'm lying just for attention's sake."

Seamus stepped back as if he'd been slapped. He stared at Harry, his mouth agape, obviously unable to think of a response.

Harry snorted, and pulled back the hangings of his bed, secluding himself from his roommates. "Well," he heard Dean mutter, "He's got a good point. Remember the Chamber of Secrets? No one believed him then either, and he was proven right in the end. And last year, how he kept insisting he didn't enter the Tournament?"

"Yeah… yeah, I know," Seamus replied heavily. "Sorry, Harry."

Harry debated on whether to answer him for a few moments. In the end, he sighed and decided to forgive him. Not bothering to open the hangings, he answered loudly enough for them to hear, "You're forgiven. But tell everyone who asks what I just told you; I don't want to have to keep repeating it. I've got enough on my plate as it is."

* * *

So, Harry is finally back at Hogwarts. He's facing some ethical quandaries, and his speaking is getting more and more acerbic.

The conversation in the dorm came to me all of a sudden, actually. Why wouldn't Harry's roommates believe him, after the Chamber of Secrets and the Triwizard Tournament, where Harry was hated by most if not all of the school and then revealed to have been speaking the truth the whole time?

Anyway, Harry's got his mind on the mission ahead - he know he has to hurry and get ready, because Voldemort is out to get him.


End file.
